Caregiver
by TheMorningPaper
Summary: When the Blue Spirit happens upon an ill rival, he finds it in his best interest to take care of her himself. Zutara miniseries.
1. Chapter 1

PART I

Making sure there was no one around who could see him, Zuko quickly lifted up his mask to scratch the itch that had been plaguing his nose for the past 15 minutes. His Blue Spirit disguise could feel extremely uncomfortable sometimes.

As soon as he was able to readjust his identity, he took off again, hopping from rooftop to rooftop of the small Earth Kingdom town. It had started out as an attempt to get rid of his boredom and insomnia, but then he began doing it nightly. It helped him blow off steam and keep in shape since he couldn't get away with much training during the day without worrying that someone might discover and start questioning him. And he liked sneaking about the city night after night, searching for and quelling any signs of danger. Though he'd never admit it, it made him feel more like a hero of some sort, instead of just a thief and a traitor.

He stopped to listen for any kind of quarreling or rustling amongst the streets, but heard none. The city was as quiet as death, so he set his sights on the fastest route he knew to the hospital and made off in that direction. Every now and again he liked to check up on the patients there whenever things got slow in the streets. Even though there was nothing that he could really do for them, it made him feel good to think that they were safer under his watchful eye.

As he propelled himself on top of the infirmary's roof, he cracked open the latch that led into the building's venting system and climbed into the metal tunnel. Through the ceiling vents, he could visit each room of the hospital and look to see that each patient remained safe. After checking on a couple of his regulars- mainly the elderly and some sick pregnant women- he stopped above the large room that was to be considered the children's ward. Again, no one seemed in serious danger or dire need of assistance, and for a second Zuko felt slightly disappointed that he wasn't needed, but quickly scolded himself for thinking such a thing as hoping for innocent people to be in trouble.

He took one last look over the sleeping children, disliking the fact that they were there in the first place, but there was something else that was unusual about the hospital that night.

_Where the fuck are all the doctors? _

Regardless of their absence, Zuko saw no need to stick around any longer and began making the round trip through the vents back up to the roof so he could go home and slide into bed. He crawled carefully and made as little sound as possible with each movement, but stopped when he heard some muffled words coming from the room below him. He slinked up to where the vent cracked opened so that he could gaze into the room and make out what they were saying.

The room appeared to be mostly empty except for three people: two of them, nurses perhaps, stood quietly beside the bed-stricken form of the third, whispering so as not to bring alarm.

"We don't have the space for her here. They think she may be contagious and don't want to put her in a room with any of the other patients. We just can't accommodate her any longer."

"Well we can't just throw her out into the street, she'll die."

"Some of the city's officers are coming in the morning to take her away. They're going to try and find a family that will take her in."

"They won't have much luck."

There was a heavy sigh. "I know."

Zuko was becoming desperate to try and see the condition of the girl who rested in the bed below. Her illness must have been dire if the infirmary was actually throwing her out for being too sick. His limbs began to grow sore from his awkward position in the vent, and he considered leaving and returning the next day, but as soon as he moved to go, so did the two nurses. As the door closed softly behind them, Zuko dropped himself down into the abandoned room and slowly approached the patient.

She was clearly unconscious, or else she would have made some movement against him, and her unresponsiveness gave him the confidence to be able to stand over her without the fear of getting caught. But his assurance quickly turned into shock as he could just barely recognize the woman below him.

The sweat streaked across her brow made her thick brown hair stick to the sides of her face and concealed the structure outline of her jaw and cheekbones. There were large dark bruises covering her closed eyes that made it seem as though she couldn't open them even if she wanted to. Her breathing was light and shallow, but she still appeared to be gasping for air that she didn't know how to reach, and the moon shining in through the ceiling skylights gave her skin an unusually pale glow. Her clothing and the blue pendant around her neck were perhaps the only things confirming her to be who he thought she was, and although he considered her one of his deepest enemies, he couldn't help feeling that not even she deserved to suffer from such a condition.

_She's fucking dying and their just gonna throw her away?_

He didn't like the idea of giving up on someone who so clearly needed help, regardless of who that person was, and he could already feel himself turning the situation into one that played in his favor- both their favors, come to think of it. Clearly, the Avatar was not accompanying his traveling companion at the moment, but from numerous experiences Zuko already knew that he'd be coming for her eventually and wouldn't give up until he found her. She was a piece of bait practically begging to be taken, and it wasn't like she had many more appealing options. If he could manage to bring her back to his apartment, he could prevent her from being thrown out onto the street and also give himself some much-needed leverage over the Avatar when he finally came for her.

It was only a few blocks back to his apartment; she could handle it couldn't she? He tried carefully sliding his arms underneath her back and knees and lifting her slightly to test out how much movement she could take, but it wasn't long before she started shivering rapidly. He sighed, there was no way he was going to be able to carry her through the vents. He didn't have much of a choice; he was going to have to bring her out through the front door or one of the windows if he could find one that actually opened.

He tried lifting her once again and her bare legs cringed from the sudden lack of warmth. Though her robe was very loose and was meant to flow off her body, the amount of sweat that her body was emitting made it cling to her skin and outline _all_ of her features. For his sake and for hers, he managed to wrap one of her blankets tightly around her like and cocoon, thus keeping her warm and saving him from her distracting body. Without wasting any more time, he held her close to his body and moved quickly towards the door and out into the hallway, keeping low out of fear that someone might walk by.

* * *

In and out. She kept drifting _in _and _out_. She was on fire one second, then chilled to the bone the next. It was like she was somehow being lifted up and down at the same exact time and every instant she attempted to make sense of something, her mind became even more weak and feeble. She couldn't even trust the feelings of her _in_ conscious out of fact that they could have just been illusions formed by her _out_ conscious.

She was being carried from what instincts were telling her, but not even that was clear. All she knew was that she wanted it to stop. She wanted to be put down, but she lacked the capabilities to communicate it. And she hated it. She never again wanted to feel so useless and frail, but by the time she was able to recognize her frustration, it was wiped away and forgotten to make room for more useless thoughts, as if she could only think or feel one thing at a time.

She didn't feel alive. She felt current, like she was there, but not alive. Maybe she wasn't alive. Maybe that's what death feels like: presence without actually being present.

* * *

Perhaps it wasn't worth the effort.

As Zuko laid her down on the extra cot he set up in his living room, she looked almost worse than she had at the hospital. He assumed that he was doing her a favor by taking her in, but it never occurred to him that she could end up dying faster in his care than she would had she been left out on her own. As he watched her lay helplessly on the cot, he prayed that she'd start looking better with some rest. Dead bait didn't make good bait. He scrounged up all the extra blankets and pillows he could find and turned her cot into the most comfortable bed he could manage.

But perhaps it really wasn't worth the effort. She required constant attention and care. He even debated bringing her back to the hospital; she might have been safer in their hands after all, but the thought vanished immediately after he felt something grab onto his hand.

Next to him, Katara had made the first voluntary movement he'd seen her make all night as she reached out and wrapped her grip around his pointer finger. Whether it was a conscious movement or not, he didn't know, but after she had done it, he couldn't find it in himself to give up on her immediately after he had just criticized the hospital for doing just that. Her fingers seemed so small and delicate when wrapped feebly around his own. He sighed.

_You're going to be a lot of work aren't you? _

He sat down next to her bed and rubbed her hand in his as she continued to shake timidly in between the blankets. He began to question how she ended up in her condition in the first place. He always imagined the Avatar being much more responsible for his friends. Had the girl been his accomplice, Zuko would have never allowed her to wind up in such a state. It almost made him angry just thinking about it. She may have been his foe, but even Zuko was willing to admit that he didn't want to see the girl die. _At least not like this. _

He tended to her as best he could. He took to wiping her forehead constantly with a hot rag as it seemed to calm her whenever she took off into one of her shivering episodes. Occasionally he tried to get her to drink some tea, but the task often proved to be difficult considering she had no idea she was supposed to swallow. But it got better with time. Eventually he had studied her body well enough to be able to tell when she needed what and how to get her to eat and drink when she needed to. He was also able to create a makeshift water sac that he heated and placed underneath the small of her back, which she seemed to appreciate. And all the while he kept on his Blue Spirit mask, mainly to avoid the chance of her waking up and identifying him. All-in-all it was better that she not recognize who he really was. He didn't want to jeopardize her health further by scaring her into a deeper coma if she ever found out that she was supposed to be a prisoner instead of a patient.

* * *

Katara possessed no knowledge of time. She couldn't tell if two hours or two weeks had passed since she'd been like this, but there were certain things that she was beginning to pick up on every now and then. She didn't know where she was, but she started to faintly remember when they carried her to the hospital and began diagnosing her, although something about her body was letting her know that she was no longer there- she was somewhere safer, and with somebody- a man, she felt.

As her senses slowly started coming back to her, she could feel contact and touch things. She could feel it when her brow was gently wiped and when a heat radiated from underneath her waist, warming her spine. Whoever her caregiver was, she appreciated him more than she thought herself capable of. Whoever he was, his hands were soft, though his knuckles were rough. Often at night, when she would continue to shake violently, he somehow always managed to heat her skin and calm her body in the places where he pressed his hands. And eventually, when her sense of smell began to return to her, she could tell whenever he was in the room since he gave off an aroma that reminded her of a mix between pine needles and rain water.

Sometimes it reminded her of Zuko.

As her senses gradually returned, she feared that perhaps her hearing never would since she could never hear her caregiver talk to her, or anyone for that matter. But she dismissed the thought after figuring out that she could make out sounds in the background- like when the teapot started whistling, or what the weather was like outside the open window. Maybe her caregiver was just mute.

She couldn't entirely see anything yet, but images would come to her in blurry flashes and anytime her caregiver sat next to her, his face always came across as blue for some reason she couldn't explain. She could stir and shuffle a little, but her limbs were still very weak and larger movements tended to put her in pain. Perhaps the only thing she couldn't actually do yet was speak. But she would get there.

* * *

**AN: **This story is just gonna be a short miniseries that I'm writing on the side. I'm working out the outline, but I doubt it's gonna be more than 3-5 chapters, which I'll make sure to update quickly. Let me know what you think and thanks for reading.


	2. Chapter 2

PART II

(lemon warning)

Katara knows she's a mess. She can smell herself. She smells awful; she doesn't even know how to describe it, let alone want to describe it. A feeling like her skin is rotting away continues to creep over her and she doesn't know if she can stand it much longer. She's thankful to her Caregiver, but he's not providing her with enough water for her to be able to really start recovering. It's not his fault though; he probably doesn't know that she's a waterbender.

* * *

Katara can't walk. Katara can't even stand. But she somehow manages to painfully move herself from her cot to the bathroom floor, and when Zuko later comes home to find her draped over the side of the tub in an attempt to fill it up, he doesn't have to think too hard to figure out what she's trying to tell him.

As he waits for the water to rise, he knows he has to undress her. He hesitates to remove her robe, which is practically falling off her body anyway, but he's reassured when she puts a hand over his as if she's trying to say _it's okay, I trust you._

He manages to get her fully naked without hurting her too much. He knows what movements are hard for her and he proceeds accordingly, never letting his gaze leave her face as he lowers her into the tub.

Clearly, she has lost a large amount of weight from being sick, but she's still beautiful. And as Zuko washes her body very carefully, he can't help but to feel something. Granted, there's a naked woman lying beneath him, but it's something else besides that. Something that makes him want to take off his mask and tell her who he really his. But Zuko knows he can't do that. He can't take the risk of scaring her and he certainly doesn't want to take the risk of her hating him again. When Zuko's the Blue Spirit, he doesn't have to be hated.

He's thankful that Katara appears to be enjoying the bath, but feels stupid for never realizing how much she wanted it in the first place. Perhaps he can't read her as well as he thought he could. But Katara recognizes that he's trying. As he leans over her body to wash her back, she lays her head in the crook of his shoulder. She can't speak, but manages to mouth a _thank-you_ against his neck and Zuko doesn't miss it, but he's confused as to why his heart just skipped a beat.

* * *

Katara's getting better. She's well enough that she can stretch and moan on her cot without hurting herself. She can speak a little, but anything she says just comes out as nonsense from her disoriented nature and Zuko thinks it's adorable. Her overall appearance has also improved. Her skin has returned to its youthful glow and she's finally gained some weight back. She still shivers and sweats, but it's nothing that Zuko isn't prepared to take care of.

Even though she's getting better, Zuko finds that it's getting harder for him to leave her throughout the day. He's stopped going out on his nightly patrols and instead often discovers himself sitting next to her the entire night while she sleeps. He can't look in another direction for five minutes without succumbing to the need to check back to see that she hasn't moved. He doesn't get it. She's beautiful, but is she really that beautiful?

_Yes._

She never realizes that she's doing it, but sometimes Katara likes to moan and stretch out her chest and legs while she rests and Zuko often has to step outside to get some air when she does. He can't understand what's happening to him. He thinks maybe he's catching her illness.

The next night as Zuko prepares to go to bed, he bends over Katara to bring her covers up to her shoulders and pet her goodnight like usual, but this time she wraps her arms around his neck and nuzzled his throat. Zuko freezes. She keeps mumbling something about pine needles and tries to bring him closer.

_She's sick. She's delusional. She doesn't know what she's doing. Just lower her arms and put her to sleep. _

It's easier said than done.

Resistance proves difficult and as Katara pulls him more and more downward, he finds himself even more and more on top of her until he's finally straddling her on the bed. All sense of morality and good manners are flying out the window and he can't help it when his pelvis slowly presses against hers.

* * *

Katara can feel her Caregiver's body above hers. He's much bigger than she is, but it doesn't hurt; he's not heavy. In fact, she likes how his body presses against hers. He's not suffocating her and she can tell how careful he's trying to be. She soon finds her that her head is resting in the crook of his neck- it fits so perfectly there. And there's something else; she feels something hard between her legs. It's strange to her and she can't make sense of what exactly is going on, but she likes it and would give anything to prevent her Caregiver's warmth from disappearing.

Zuko's grinding into her. He's gentle and light, but his hormones are begging him to move faster and harder. To her, it feels like their melting into each other. She moans, but not from the usual pain. It's a new type of pain she has never felt before; a good pain. She almost doesn't want to call it pain at all. She can feel his heart beating rapidly against her own and she can hear his heavy, shaky breaths. For a second she thinks that maybe her caregiver is actually hurt; that maybe he's asking for her help. She tries to hold him tighter to tell him that it will all be okay.

Zuko's losing all control. He knows he shouldn't do what his body is begging him to do. He can't enter her. She's delusional, and he knows that it could very well be considered rape if he did. He repeats it over and over in his head, trying to gain power back over his hormones, but she keeps pressing herself up against him. He's not going to last much longer. Either he gets out now, or he's already lost the battle.

He lost the battle a long time ago. He can't help but to admire every curve of her lithe figure while he unties the bow to her robe and lets it hang open freely. Her legs are thick and slender at the same time and they feel perfectly smooth when he runs the palm of his hand up the inside of her thigh. His fingers hook onto the sides of her underwear and he lifts her bottom up slightly so he can start to slide them down her sinewy legs and off her ankles.

He notices that she's already wet, so in some way she must want this. It spurs him on further and he starts shed his own clothing, not bothering to take as much time and care as he did with hers. Everything's off; he's stark naked, all but the mask that is, and he wonders if she can tell. He wishes he could remove the piece of wood blocking his face. He wants to be able to kiss her, to run the tip of his nose across her sensitive flesh, but he can't. He won't take the risk of her recognizing him. His face could ruin everything for them.

He gently spreads her legs a bit to accommodate him. She's shown no signs of protest so far, and if she did he would know it: her reaction from the first time he tried to feed her his homemade fever medication certainly taught him a lot about body language. He decides to do a test run and cautiously rubs his erected tip against her entrance, observing her face closely to search for any signs of objection. But as her hips attempt to rise in response, Zuko knows he's done experimenting. He begins to lower himself.

She can feel something pulsing against her, in her? Something between her thighs where the odd pain continued to take place. It's hard, but she doesn't mind it. In actuality, she wants it closer if possible. Somehow she knows that it will ease her, perhaps even cure her. She likes this new pain that has come over her, but she doesn't want it to last forever. She desires some kind of relief.

It feels like part of her is stretching out and she clings to her Caregiver. And he holds her tight in return, letting her know that she's safe. The hardness keeps pushing deeper and deeper, and there's some discomfort, but for some reason she doesn't want it to stop. It feels…right, or correct, or something. This is supposed to happen, or else Caregiver would have done something by now to stop it. She hears a moan and is quite certain that it came from her own throat. Caregiver begins to tremble above her.

Zuko pushes himself just a little farther so that he is fully inside of her. Their pelvises are pressed flush against each other's and Zuko wants to press harder. He wants them to mesh and never be able to separate. Katara is sweating below him, and he tries to wipe her forehead with a corner of the bed sheet. She's shaking and biting her lip and he begins to fear that she's experiencing pain, but it's too late now. He can't take it back and honestly, he doesn't want to. He has to relieve himself or his torment will never end.

Still trying his best to be gentle, he lifts her legs and tries to get her to keep them wrapped around his waist, which she manages to accomplish. He's still fully penetrating her and attempts to grind in even further. The deeper he presses, the harder she clings to him for safety. He can tell she's scared, but she'll adjust soon and he can't keep himself from helplessly grinding into her. She's whimpering, but Zuko knows it's from pleasure not pain as he feels her getting wetter around him. He pulls himself out, and then slides back in. Katara squeaks out a confused moan. He pulls out again, then slides back in. Katara's still sweating beneath him and her grasp on him is slipping, but it's getting harder to be gentle with her and he begins penetrating her faster with each thrust.

Katara's mind is spinning out of control. Her breathing has become more ragged, but she's not afraid. Caregiver's there and she knows that he's the one inside of her. But the odd pain is increasing and she praying for Caregiver to release her. He's getting harder to hold on to and suddenly her hands are no longer around him. She tries to call out for him, but is reassured when she feels his warm palms slide underneath her and press against her back.

It feels like they are bouncing, maybe swaying, she can't really tell. It's getting harder to make sense of it all, but the hardness is getting harder. It's not rough though; it's smooth and fills her up in a way she's never felt before. It's her Caregiver; he's somehow filling her soul and making her better. But it feels like something is wrong with him… he's grunting. Is he hurt? She tries to focus her vision. She wants to see him, but everything is still blurry. Is that his smile above her? She can see flashes of blue coming and going out of the side of her eye.

The pain is growing stronger and she can't stop moaning now. It's bad for her voice, but there's no way she can help it; it's clear that her body is calling the shots now. Caregiver is grunting louder and louder.

Zuko can't hold it in much longer. Katara is writhing beneath him and moaning so loud he's afraid someone outside might hear her. But he can't stop grunting himself. She's so wet and tight and the sensation is making him lose his own vision. His head feels fuzzy and his eyes are practically tearing up behind his mask. For a second he wonders if she has any idea what he's doing to her, or what she's doing to him. At least he knows she's enjoying it since she's clearly going to reach her peak soon. She's reaching out for him again and he lowers his face down next to hers so that their cheeks are touching and his mask becomes a little skewed in the process. She buries her face in his neck once again and grabs at the muscles in his bare back.

The odd pain is going to reach its high point. It's almost over, she can feel it. Caregiver is moving against her so fast and wild and she's trying to keep up with him, but she's not quick enough. It's like he's shaking so fast that he's not shaking at all, but she can still feel him there and she's determined to never let him go. The pain is so hard now. She's gasping; she might just faint, but she holds on tight to Caregiver. And he's there. He's pressed firmly against her now and he's shaking like never before. It's like they're sharing each other's heartbeats and it's all she can hear while everything else goes quiet around her. A wave rushes over her body. It lifts her up towards the sky, then begins to lower her down to the earth again. There's a warmness spreading within her and there's a loudness as her hearing resurfaces: it's her Caregiver's voice for the first time. He's yelling. He's yelling her name over and over again. He sounds so familiar.

Katara has reached her climax. He can feel her convulsing around his hardness. She's gone quiet, but her body is trembling and she's clinging onto him for dear life. Zuko can't stop himself from coming soon after. He has to throw his head back and yell her name. He can't help it; he lost all sensible thinking a long time ago and it feels so good to finally roll her name off his tongue. He no longer holds back as he fires his seed deep inside of her.

* * *

He lies down lightly on top of her, being careful not to crush her. She's so delicate and he takes a few moments to admire her before lifting himself out of her and going into the kitchen to get her some water. By the time he returns, she's already fallen asleep, but is still breathing heavily. She had exerted so much energy and Zuko's actually quite impressed by the stamina she possesses in her condition. He takes a small cloth and tenderly wipes away the remaining sweat from her body. She emits a small huff when he smooths the cloth over the area between her breasts and downward against the inside of her thighs before closing her robe back up again. She's so amazing and he prays that she doesn't resent him for what he just did to her.

Zuko soaks the cloth in steaming water and then lightly places it over her closed eyes, hoping that it'll help her see a bit better when she wakes up. There is nothing else that he desires to do, so he messily dresses himself and takes a seat next to her, silently hoping that she'll want to stay with him after she gets well again.


	3. Chapter 3

PART III

How long have I been sleeping? It's hot in here and my limbs are sore. I feel a little dizzy and my body feels heavy, but I think I'm actually starting to gain some practical sight back. Caregiver put a wet washcloth over my eyes, which was smart of him, although he should have thought of it sooner.

From what I can make out, I'm in some sort of small building. The wind is very strong outside and I can hear it whipping against the windows. There's a small fire going in the hearth. I think Caregiver is sitting next to me; I can hear him breathing. When I rub my eyes, I can sort of make out his face, but I must still be hallucinating since his skin still looks blue to me. But besides that he appears normal, wearing black sweatpants and a tank-top. If I reach out just a little I can touch his cheek, but it's not a cheek. It's hard; wooden. And I'm right; it is blue, because I can see now that it's the mask of the Blue Spirit.

Guess he's not that normal after all …

He's not acknowledging that I'm poking his face. He must be sleeping underneath the mask, his figure is slumped and his chest is rising and falling in a very steady pattern. I shouldn't wake him, but I'm hot and I need water badly. I can't get comfortable and it feels like… I'm not wearing any underwear.

When I place a hand on his bare arm, he finally jolts awake.

* * *

I'm caught. She's awake and she's looking at me. I know she can see me, but it's like I'm frozen in place.

Shit. Shit! Shit! Shit!

I could tie her down to the bed before she even thinks of escaping. It's not like she can overpower me in her condition. Shit. But I want her to like me. That was the whole point of wearing the stupid mask in the first place. The mask… I'm still wearing the mask. Oh, thank Agni!

She's still looking at me with those eyes. She's confused. She's trying to say something, but her voice is extremely hoarse and I have to give a motion to tell her to take it easy. She mouths "water"_._ _Of course she wants water you jackass._

After I find her a canteen and fill it up in the kitchen, she starts sipping from it like a child would from its bottle. She nearly sucks the whole thing down in two seconds and I have to take it away from her to keep her from overdoing it. She heaves a sigh of relief when she's done drinking and wipes some sweat away from her brow. That used to be my job.

I want to…hold her, or something. But if I'm gonna do anything, I'm not gonna push my luck, that's for sure. I don't know how she's going to start responding to me from now on.

"What's your name?" She asks quietly.

I have to shake my head no. I feel bad, but there's nothing else I can do. Any other form of communication and she'd recognize me immediately.

"Take the mask off." She demands.

Now she's just being unreasonable. I try to pull her covers up higher to tuck her back into bed, but she pushes away. I haven't even shown her my face yet and she already hates me…

But she's giving me that look again. It's like a mix of frustration, curiosity, and…admiration maybe? I can already tell what's going through her mind. She knows that there has to be a strong reason why I won't show her my face. I can practically see her putting the pieces together. I have to stop her.

I grab her hand and start rubbing little circles into it to disrupt her concentration. I know she likes it; it always calmed her down when she was sicker. I think she recognizes the feeling, recognizes that I was there through a lot of what she endured. Her eyes are softening. I never realized how blue they are; I suppose they were closed most of the time. Despite her rugged and fugitive lifestyle, her fingers are still somehow so soft and delicate and she's grazing them over my hands and up my arms. She keeps moving up higher and I have to lean down closer to her for her to reach my shoulders. I shouldn't be letting this happen, but it feels so damn right. She keeps urging me to scoot closer to her, and when her fingertips reach my collarbone I'm practically hovering over her. I even have to put my hand on the edge of her bed for balance when she moves to the back of my neck and starts massaging the back of my scalp. What am I, her pet? Oh gods, when did I become so pathetic?

Something's really not right though. The mask is moving. She's got her hand on it; she's trying to slip it off from the back. As much as it kills me to refuse her touch, I have to throw her hands back in her own lap to save face, literally.

"Why?" she asks me. "It can't be that bad."

_Oh yes it can. _I shake my head no.

"Do you really distrust me so much?"

_No, it's you who doesn't trust me._ I shake my head again.

"Then what is it?"

_I can't tell you Katara. Trust me, I want to, but you'll never understand. You think you know me too well. _I place my hand over hers- my signal for "I'm sorry". I think she gets it because she looks disappointed. I can't sit with her here much longer before I start to go insane. I get up and leave to go to my bedroom. 

"Wait…please."

Her voice is so soft and sad. It kills me that I'm the cause of it. I stop and turn around for just a second.

"Just give me a way to know that I can trust you."

I can only think of one way at the moment. I quickly walk back over to her and grab her hand to place it against my chest. If she can feel how fast my heart is beating right now, I pray she understands what I'm trying to tell her.

* * *

He's really not going to give in. Every move I make to try and get him to tell me something, he just spins it around. In a weird way I almost respect it for him; he's clearly not just trying to be modest. But my gut has also been twisting. I don't understand it. When I was really ill, I felt so safe and assured around him. I think I even made a fuss when he _wasn't _there to take care of me…sure I was delusional, but I was running on pure instincts, so why have they changed all of a sudden?

There has to be a good reason that he won't show his face. I doubt anyone would go so far just to hide some beauty deficiency or something. And truthfully, I don't give a shit about what he looks like; I just want to know who the hell he is, because in my gut it feels like I already know. I have to have proof though…

His heart was beating so rapidly when he placed my hand over it. I know he cares; I never doubted that, but his heart was beating _so _fast- like he was scared or guilty or nervous. I wish he could just fucking talk to me; it would make this all so much easier. But the fact that he won't only emphasizes my theory that I already know him- he can't let me recognize his voice.

How stupid does he think I am? I'm going to find out who he is eventually, so there really isn't a point in trying to hide it any longer.

He went to bed a little while ago. Probably asleep by now, but his scent is still here- pine needles and rain water. The smell is helping me remember. I can recall being engulfed by it, like he was rubbing it off on me. And I remember when he put his palms on my back, and his cheek against mine. And it doesn't take me too long to realize that he was inside of me. _He fucked me, I remember. _But I also remember that I had somehow asked him to do it…

* * *

I'm so fucking tired, but I can barely sleep. I threw the mask on my dresser just to get it out of my sight. I can't lift any of my limbs. I would try and go get something to drink, but she's probably still awake out there and I can't deal with putting that mask back on right now. Maybe I should just tell her. If she's really thankful, maybe she won't be that mad after all.

I've decided that I can't keep her captive anymore, not that I ever really thought of her as a prisoner anyway. And I want her to stay so badly, but making her stay will only drive her further away from me emotionally. I know her better than she thinks I do, and I refuse to be the sole reason that she tries to leave. Deep down I'm pretty sure I fear her rejection more than anything else.

My feet are sore, which is weird considering I hadn't been doing much standing today. I can just imagine her here in my room, offering to heal them for me- me, not the Blue Spirit. But it'll never happen; I have to force myself to fully realize that. I'll never be able to hide from her that I pretty much raped her, and when she finds out, that'll be it. She'll either leave me forever, or be merciful and kill me instead.

I just hope she got the gesture I tried to show her before. I hope she knows I loved her.

* * *

I won't wait anymore. I was born without patience and I'll die without patience before I let this go on any longer.

I have some trouble making my way to his bedroom; my legs are still weak and shaky, but I've never let something as minuscule as that stop me before. Thank the gods his door doesn't squeak like I was expecting it to when I open it. Through the small crack I can already see that his mask is on the dresser. And when I open the door a bit wider, I can make out his feet at the edge of the bed. His lack of a reaction tells me that he is indeed asleep. I would state the details of what his room looks like, but my mind is so absorbed in seeing his face that I don't even remotely care about any of my surroundings.

His face is buried beneath a pillow. _Yeah, that would be the case._ I'm going to have to move it in order to get what I want. I don't even care if I get caught anymore. I just need to see the man I let make love to me. I need to see my Caregiver.

I'm surprised my heartbeat alone hasn't woken him up. To me, each pulse sounds like a gong as I remove the pillow from between his head and hand. Everything slows down.

_I knew it was you. _

I want to cry. I want to scream and beat him into a bloody mess, but at the same time…I don't. I'm so angry, but I'm angry at myself for not being strong enough to prevent this, for letting this happen, and then partially falling for his lies. But did he really even lie to me? Is it possible to lie without speaking?

He shouldn't have hid regardless. He should have faced me like a man. He should have challenged me in the way that one enemy does in respect for the other. And he's all about fucking honor, so why couldn't he give it for me?

I'm trying to make sense of everything. Part of me thought that it was him from the very beginning, but I didn't take it seriously enough. I never imagined that he would actually go through all the trouble of taking care of me like that- me, his enemy. Granted, he was probably planning on using me as bait, but he still willingly sat by my side whenever I wanted him to, even though he never had to. Would I have done the same thing had the roles been reversed?

He seems so strangely peaceful when he sleeps, but there are still bags under his eyes. I must have taken up so much of his time and energy. I could leave right now and free him of his duties, but I know I'm not strong enough yet; my legs still wobble when I walk. But it's something more than that. For some reason the thought of leaving makes me feel guilty. I don't understand why; it's not like I really owe him any favors.

My mind goes back to when he put my palm on his chest so I could feel how fast his heart was beating. I want to believe him, and I think a large part of me actually does, but that doesn't mean that he's not going to hurt me…again. Maybe I should act like I never saw his face. I could transform him from Zuko back into Caregiver. But in actuality, I know that could never be true.

I don't want to go back to my bed. I know that I won't be able to sleep there. And I'm lost, and hurt, and scared, and I just want Aang or Sokka to be here right now. And even though I desperately want to stop feeling like a baby, I can't. I lay down next to Zuko for a second to try and find some comfort in his blankets. Just for a second.

* * *

I'm awake, but it's like I'm still sleeping. I can't summon the effort to open my eyes. My body feels extremely heavy, like lead, but I kind of like it. I might just go back to sleep. I should make some breakfast for Katara though…damn.

I don't bother suppressing a long groan when I force myself to sit up. In the mirror next to me I can see how dark and baggy my eyes are, even the one with the scar looks worse somehow. It makes me look even more menacing and I'm almost glad that I have to put the mask on.

_What the fuck is that?_ In the mirror there's something behind me on my bed, curled up in a ball. At first I just thought it was a rolled up blanket, but when I turn around to inspect it I'm almost scared shitless to find out that it's Katara. _Why is she here? Oh shit, oh shit, she saw my face. She must have right? But then why is she still here? Maybe she fainted as soon as she saw…_

I jump up and put the mask on anyway. Better to be safe. I'm pacing back and forth at the foot of the bed. _Do I wake her?_ _I shouldn't, she looks so comfortable. _I'm having a heart attack and the only thing keeping me alive is the thought that she's still here and I haven't completely lost her yet. I plop down on the side of the bed, feeling hopeless and in need of a breather. I can't help but to think that if things were different I would have been ecstatic to wake up next to her. I do the only thing I feel I have enough confidence to do: go to the kitchen and start making breakfast.

My hands shake a little when I crack an egg into the frying pan. I can't think of anything to do or to say when she wakes up. It'd probably be best if I didn't talk at all. This feeling is torturous. No one has done this to me before; it's like some kind of deranged weapon. It almost makes me mad at her, almost. Maybe this was somehow her plan all along because let's be honest, she's not my captive anymore, I'm hers. Something smells. Fuck, I'm letting the eggs burn.

I'm carrying her plate to my room. It's a million miles away, but I get there way too fast. Part of me hopes that she's awake on the other side of the door, just so something can happen and my mind is saved from remaining a ticking time bomb. When I step inside, she's still lying on her side, curled up in one of my blankets. I shouldn't love the sight of it as much as I do.

When I put her breakfast down on the side table, she looks up at me. She was awake, she was just ignoring me when I came in. _Great._

"Why did you put the mask back on?" She asks, but she's whispering and she doesn't sound very angry. Regardless, I still can't find the balls to answer her. "Zuko…"

I sit down on the side of the bed next to her. I rip the mask off and throw it across the room somewhere, I'm sick of thing anyway. I don't make eye contact with her or the mask, I just stare at the palms of my hands and try to think how long it's been since I've really firebended; I miss it. I miss having so much confidence.

"Are you okay?" I hear her ask me. Why is she asking me that? Does she actually care? "Dammit Zuko, would you just talk to me already?" Now _that_ sounds more like her.

"I'm…sorry." Is all I can muster out.

"For what exactly?"

"I don't know. Everything." My hands are starting to sweat. "I shouldn't have brought you here." She's waiting for me to continue. "They could have found a better place for you. I thought I was doing you a favor, but I just made things worse."

"I'm not sick anymore."

"No, but I… did things…to you." I can feel a lump starting in my throat. I don't want to tell her this, but I have to.

"I know."

"You know?"

"I remember it a little. And I'm still missing my underwear."

"I'm so sorry."

"I know." When I finally look at her face I can tell why she's not as mad as I'd thought she'd be. She looks like she's about to cry herself, and I know she's just as scared as I am.

I can't be afraid anymore. She needs me and I'm failing her unless I find a way to make it up to her. I have to let her know that she's not in danger. "I care about you so much Katara."

"I know." She places her hand against the spot on my chest where my heart is thumping, just like I made her do before. "You told me."

"You know everything don't you?"

"…yes." That makes me laugh a little. "I wish you hadn't hidden from me though. It felt like betrayal."

"I didn't realize we were on the same side."

"Weren't we? At some point?"

I nod. I feel like her eyes can see right through me, but I don't feel threatened by them. I scoot closer to her, I can't help it. I know what I have to do. I have to tell her everything I wanted to say to her while she was sick. I have to tell her everything that happened and everything I wanted to happen. I can't deprive her of information she deserves to hear, and when it all comes out it feels like I'm speaking a thousand words per second, but she seems to be following along.

* * *

"Please stay." He's rubbing little circles in my hand again like I like. "Even after you fully recover, you could stay here with me."

He's serious, I can tell. After he told me basically every little detail of our time together, I hadn't realized that he had developed such a strong affection for me. But it can't work. He has to know that right? I'll admit, there were times when I found myself wanting to do _something _with him, but I knew it was wrong to think it. Staying with him would only hurt him more anyway. It does pain me to realize it, but he's tired and he looks like shit, and I know it's because of me. I hadn't meant to do this to him. I really hadn't.

I graze my fingertips over his left temple. "I don't want to cause you more pain."

"What do you mean? I'm fine."

"Zuko…" I lift his hand up for him to look at it. It's still a little shaky from all the stress I put him through. "You've helped me, but I've hurt you. It's not fair."

"It'll hurt more if you leave."

"But it's not because I'm mad or I don't care. I _do _care about you Zuko. I have for a while, but there are things I need to take care of- responsibilities I can't just abandon."

He knows I'm talking about Aang. "But he didn't even come for you." He's getting frustrated. "He let you stay in the hands of his enemy, your enemy…"

I know I can't reason with him. Once he's got his eyes set on something he wants, he never gives in. I know from experience.

I should go now. I don't think I should wait for a fully recover, and I can manage fine on my own anyway. I put my hands behind his head and give him a small kiss on the corner of his mouth before I get up to start leaving. He needs it and it's the least I can give him.

He grabs my wrist before I can get through the bedroom door. He's in so much pain, but he doesn't get that my leaving will be good for him. I'm trying to help him, but he doesn't see it.

"Even after what we did, you can just walk away so easily?" There's so much hurt in his voice, I can hear it vibrating from the back of his throat. Little memories of our night together come back to me and they make me want to stay.

"This is anything but easy for me Zuko."

"You're still not well."

"I'll be fine."

He knows he can't win the argument. What surprises me is that he hasn't tried to strap me down yet. He's really trying to persuade me rather than force me into staying. It reminds me that him and Caregiver really are the same person. I press my lips tenderly against his and he wraps his arms around me securely. I didn't want to resort to this, but it might just let us be happy for a little while.

* * *

I know this is her final way of saying goodbye. I don't want it to be true, but I promised that I wouldn't keep her here against her will any longer. At least she's kissing me instead of beating me.

I carry her to the bed and she rolls her hips against me. She shouldn't do that. If she presses me too hard I won't be able to hold back, just like last time. Maybe that's what she wants…

I put my lips against every part of her body to make up for the lack of kissing from last time. I pick a soft spot on the nape of her neck and start sucking. She's lost and I can tell that for a second she's forgotten that she was supposed to leave me. Her legs wrap around mine tightly and her fingers are running mazes through my hair. I feel like I'm gonna melt.

My erection is already as hard as it's going to get and she's still grinding against it while trying to get my sweatpants off. I cup her cheeks in my hands for a second to make her look in my eyes. "Are you sure?" and she nods yes. She really does want it. I know she does. And it's the greatest feeling in the world. We undress fully and she brings me down to meet her.

…

She's waking up. Her head is lodged in my shoulder and I can feel her nuzzling it as her eyes adjust. I hadn't fallen asleep, I could of, but I didn't want to. My eyes are shut though; she probably thinks I'm sleeping.

She's stretching her limbs out now and putting her clothes back on, but it's a struggle because she's still not entirely well. I can hear her sharp intakes of breath as she tries to disguise the pain from herself. It makes me sad.

I can feel her lean over me. I keep my eyes closed as she brushes her palm across my forehead and kisses me one more time on the softer flesh of my scar. I can tell she's sad too. She just sounds sad.

She's heading for the door now. I won't stop her. One day we'll see each other again, and although I don't know what'll happen then, I'll look forward to it every day. I was wrong, I haven't completely lost her, not if there's still a chance to find her. And she'll look for me too. She practically whispered it to me as she kissed me. I can't help but crack open my eyes a little and watch her as she gently closes the door behind her.

* * *

**AN: **That's about it. Hoped you liked. I might eventually do another short story that would companion this one. Let me know what you think and thanks for reading :)


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